


Middle of the night

by glitteredsins, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Antony Starr and Stephen Amell [89]
Category: Actor RPF, Arrow (TV 2012) RPF, Banshee (TV) RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), New Zealand Actor RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 14:00:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14106921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteredsins/pseuds/glitteredsins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica





	Middle of the night

  
**players only. backdated to December 15th, 2013. takes place after[Antony follows through on his promise for their wedding night](http://antony-starr.dreamwidth.org/11089.html).**

_warnings: none_

The rise from sleep isn't slow, or indeed peaceful, Stephen jerks awake, his heart hammering in his throat, skin sheened with sweat, struggling against the arms that enfold him he tries to push up sucking in air.

_What the...?_ Antony opens his eyes to darkness, to Stephen shoving at him, trying to sit up. "Hey. What's wrong?"

Turning toward that voice, that familiar and much loved voice. "Tony? Fuck...where...where am I?" Disorientated and feeling utterly unsettled he reaches back to touch skin. "Fuck..."

"You're in Wellington, at the hotel," Antony says, pushing up against the headboard and reaching for Stephen. Pulling him in close. "We got married today."

"Oh shit, yeah," Stephen presses in, his heart rate evening out, his fingers rubbing against Antony's furred chest. "Wow... I know I was dreaming but it was that thing where you feel like you're falling and I woke up as I hit the ground." He blows out a long breath. "Fuck... sorry."

"Don't be," Antony says, hugging him tight. "I've that before. It's scary as hell - and it's so fucking dark in here." The downside to blackout curtains.

"What time is it?" At home they have a bedside clock that displays the time in bright green neon - easy to glance at when having just awoken. He winds his arm over Antony's belly - holding on and making it clear he's not about to let go any time soon.

Antony reaches for the clock beside the bed - the one he dumped on its face earlier. He yawns into his shoulder, away from Stephen. "Almost four."

"Wow... we've been married all of 13 hours already," Stephen smiles into warm skin. "C'mon, let's settle back down, I'll be okay..." He wants to lie in Antony's arms and sleep, they've so much planned for the next few days and he doesn't want to be so tired as to miss a moment of it.

"You sure? You're not worried about anything?" Antony asks, concerned, knowing his own bad dreams usually come when he is on some level.

"Worried?" Stephen tilts his head up - though he can't see his lover's face. "No... oh, you mean the dream? No, I guess it's just a mix of an emotional day, alcohol and subspace," he shrugs. "I'll be fine, I'll just do what I always do when I can't drift right off, I'll listen to you, your breathing, your heartbeat."

"I soothe you, do I?" Antony says, amused. Soothing is about the very last thing his crew or even Marcus would call him.

A smile curves Stephen's mouth. "Of course you do - you're my everything, you excite me, arouse me, satiate me, ground me, protect me, challenge me and you absolutely soothe me." He presses a kiss to the nearest patch of warm skin.

"Good, because you certainly soothe me," Antony says, just enjoying lying like this in the dark, his arm around his husband, the two of them quietly talking.

"Do I?" He's never thought of it like that, not beyond being his the object of his Sir's frustration and grounding when he returns from a job.

Antony nods, kisses the top of Stephen's head. "You help me let go of things," he says softly. "Stop thinking about work, what has to be done, my whole fucking to-do list..."

"It's gotta be hard to think about to-do-lists when your fist is jammed up my butt huh?" Stephen teases, smiling, eyes closed. "Don't you find being in charge all the time exhausting - with me I mean - you're always leading, guiding, thinking ahead."

"Nah. It feels natural with you. Easy. Besides, we have enough downtime where we're lovers and friends," Antony says. "It's not like I ever turn it off, like I said earlier, but sometimes it's just running in the background."

"'Just running in the background.' Yeah I like that." Stephen's fingers start moving again, until he finds a nipple, which he starts to pet in a rather idle fashion. "If you had to say one thing that you were to me - first and foremost - what would it be?"

"One thing?" Fuck. Antony blows out a breath. "I don't know. I have a bunch of answers for that."

"Sorry that was a tough ask for the middle of the night." Stephen tilts his head and wriggles up enough to press a kiss to Antony's chin. "Forget it," he smiles the words against stubbled skin.

"What would _you_ say I am to you - first and foremost?" Antony asks, curious. Wondering if his husband will come up with an answer more easily than him.

"Antony, Tony," Stephen lifts his shoulder in a small shrug. "They mean 'home', 'everything'."

Antony smiles. "I was thinking along those lines, because I know you're everything to me," he says. "But then there's the other roles. Husband, master, sir, lover, friend..." His smile broadens and he gives a small chuckle. "Right now I'm stuck on the husband part because it's so new and so amazing."

"Husband." Stephen repeats it like he's testing the shape of the word with his tongue. "I don't think it's even begun to sink in, it feels weird to say it, to think it, just over a month ago we didn't even have this planned, it was a 'maybe', 'some day'."

"I know, but I'm glad we did it this way. It made us think about what was important," Antony murmurs, rubbing his mouth against Stephen's hair.

"There's nothing more important to me than you, than 'us'." It sounds like a trite statement, but Stephen realises he means it - if he got outed tomorrow and the whole world judged him for it - it wouldn't matter - he'd still have Antony, and everything they are to each other.

"Me too," Antony says. "But I'm glad we took the time to do it right, friends and family, suits, cake, all that stuff. I'm glad we didn't just have someone say the words and hand us a piece of paper."

"Never entered my head that we would," Stephen yawns, smothering it against Antony's chest. "After all, there's no one else I can call you 'my husband' in front of is there?"

"Not unless you want to tell the club at large," Antony agrees, smiling at that yawn, his hand moving over Stephen's back.

"Oh!" Stephen lifts his head for a moment before resettling on a soft exhale. "We can do that? And it won't get out?" Of course it won't but he's already slipping back into sleep state.

"We could," Antony says, even though he was really only kidding. "There's no guarantee but there's a couple marriages like ours in the club and it hasn't. But maybe we should wait..." he trails off, the sound of Stephen softly snoring putting an end to whatever he was going to say. Which is just as well. He's exhausted.


End file.
